Guess who’s back, bitches!
(Using that phrase purely for power-drama. I think very highly of you all.)
To start with, thank you for your moral support/commiseration/technical advice on that very articulate Error 12 post. I’m happy to announce that WE ARE IN THE CLEAR! And in fact, I’ve nearly finished playing Gumby’s generation, so now comes a crapload of writing. Enjoy!
The fate of the family is now rests on… a guy who still creeps around like a grounded teenager.
Gumby: I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Polly.
Polly: Don’t tell me what to do! Go to your room!
^ ^ Hopefully this post doesn’t do anything of the sort.
But hey, just in case, I take no responsibility for any drool damage to your keyboards.
Last time, Death struck the Langurd house twice in as many hours, leaving Boa and Weston wifeless. It was a rough blow for both of the men, but apparently I’m starting this chapter with Lira because I have no sympathy.
Lira: Rockabye baby, in the spaceship…
Nice try — there’s no wind in space.
Gumby: Heehee, you said “wind”!
And you’d best enjoy it while you can, little buddy…